There are plenty of pictures that I could show you today. But none of them would depict how I feel about the place that I was named for. My mother was Abenaki. I was called Tahauwas. My father’s nickname was Chinamasad; “Little Fisherman”, because my mother thought that was all he wanted to do.

You have diligently visited my cabin day after day. We have had several nice conversations. And we had fun looking at all those pictures that sleep in my tin tea cabinet. That tea cabinet was a good thing to use; it kept the mice from ripping my pictures to shreds and making a nest of them.

But even with all that I can not speak the way that Hammond did. So I will simply let Hammond speak. When you get through with his introduction to the Adirondacks you will see why I must step aside.

Hammond on the Adirondacks

And there you have it. These North Woods are what they are. Hammond captures it best but even you could do better than Hammond. Not in words, but in a spiritual way.

How is it that our hearts can describe something that our heads can not?